


Hoping For Another Fate, With Sunlight on Your Face

by sparklight



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Drama & Romance, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2021, First Time, Kissing, Nipple Play, Rule 63, Scissoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: Princess Ganymede of Troy might end up with half the known world vying for her hand before Tros has a chance to give her away. Princess Ganymede of Troy would really rather not marry at all.Perhaps a day out in a meadow and an unexpected, giant eagle can offer a solution?
Relationships: Ganymede/Zeus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Early summer meant colour and pleasant warmth before the squeezing, relentless heat as the season grew older. It meant high, clear skies with fluffy clouds and meadows covered in flowers and sheep. Early summer meant it'd been weeks and weeks since most roads could even vaguely have been called hard to travel, and the ocean had calmed from the winter storms months ago.

It meant Troy was shock full of foreign guests, and King Tros inundated with costly gifts worth kingdoms for the hand of his middle daughter.

It meant Ganymede had fled out into one of the meadows near the Scamander, a herd of sheep and their shepherd between her and the nearest stretch of road, and her grandfather promising to make sure no one came close if they noticed her past the sheep. Noticed her past the sheep. Scoffing at the flowers in her lap, which had been plucked mostly out of nervous upset rather than any true desire, Ganymede closed her eyes. Tipped her head back and breathed in distant ocean-salt scent, the closer river wetness and the riot of green from the meadow around her. The only thing that would keep her from being noticed was that this meadow sat lower than the road as it sloped towards the river. Past the sheep, at most the top of her head would be visible, and as glorious as her curls undoubtedly were, at a distance no one would be able to tell that. Hopefully, anyway.

Opening her eyes, Ganymede squinted into the bright blue above, blinking away the sting of sunlight.

There was a bird up there, circling.

She rather wished she had wings as well. Not that she wanted to leave, which was the actual problem, here. Leaving she was, no matter what she thought about it. It was just a matter of who could, or would, offer the most for her hand, who might be powerful enough her father wouldn't dare to say no to them and who, then, would be accepted by all the other suitors. Be accepted as not worth challenging them for her.

Ganymede didn't want to leave Troy, because she didn't want to marry.

Not the handsome young king from Mount Sipylus, recently returned from the arms of the god Poseidon himself to take his birthright. Not the king of Hattusa, or the Thracian kings from the north. Not the king of Joppa or Crete or any of the other rulers from Achaea that had crossed the Aegean. Not the king of Babylonia either, and she certainly didn't find anything pleasant in the idea of becoming a by-wife - or even the great queen herself - of the pharaoh of Kemet. Or whoever else might have arrived today, or might be arriving tomorrow, or the day after that.

There was nothing wrong with those men in themselves - at least some of them were surely perfectly good men any woman would be pleased to marry! Cleopatra hadn't been so very unhappy, not in the least, by her prince from Seha.

And here was Ganymede, staring up at a distant bird of prey and wishing for wings.

Groaning and not caring how loud she might currently be since it was only her, the bird so very far above, and the river, the meadow gently ruffled by a sweet western breeze, Ganymede slumped over and hid her face in her hands. 

It just wasn't _fair_. 

If she'd been born a boy, even if she would still have felt more desire for her own sex, and would still have had to marry, few would have said anything about if she as a he had chosen to keep lovers on the side!

She, meanwhile, had barely gotten a chance to find out that girls' lips really did taste as sweet as she'd imagined they would, and while one obliging slave girl had bared her chest, blushing from face to perky nipple, all the bare graze of her fingertips had told Ganymede before they were interrupted and the girl had fled lest they be found together, was that her hand ached for all that she hadn't been able to touch.

Dropping her hands away from her face, shifting one sideways to half tangle in the curls framing her face and half prop her cheek up, the other she slipped down. Touched one of her own breasts, hidden by the slight cushion of fabric.

It just wasn't the same.

Even if it did feel nice to touch herself as well. But that wasn't what she wanted, what she would like to know what it was like.

Sighing, Ganymede straightened up, glancing up at the sky once more. The bird was gone and the sun at an angle that meant her grandfather might soon either urge her to go home when she'd come out here alone as she had, or go straight to her parents and tell them where she was. It wasn't even late afternoon yet, and she wasn't prone to trying to run off and hide like Cleomestra was! A little chance to breathe without eyes on her every waking moment of the day was the least owed her before she had to leave, wasn't it?

Who of all of those suitors - and the unknown number of potential more that might yet arrive - would be the least offensive? Would any of them be pleased to allow her to avoid them as much as possible outside of bare necessities?

A sharp whistle of rushing air and sheep bleating jerked Ganymede's attention back to her surroundings. A bird of prey descended in a sharp dive, and Ganymede wondered if it was the same one from earlier, no longer content to wait. Though it was yet distant, it'd set all the sheep to running off in bleating panic, sending shepherd and dogs after them.

The reason why was obvious; the eagle was huge. More than huge, it was practically monstrous. Ganymede ducked, trapped with her legs crossed as she were, and tried to make herself small. Hopefully too small to be a tasty treat, but surely the fleeing sheep would be more interesting?

Nothing happened.

In the distance, she could hear the boy yelling for his sheep and whistling to guide his dogs, and slowly, Ganymede straightened back up, feeling ruffled and hot despite that she'd been sitting still for hours.

"Oh."

Across from her, a mere couple body-lengths away, the eagle stood. Its eyes were huge, and silvery gray. It's beak and the peek of claws past the long, swaying grass gleamed bronze. It was crowned in gold, and the air was charged enough it was a little hard to breathe. She should probably get up and run, but Ganymede sat there, frozen as she stared at the eagle, until it shimmered and twisted. Until it grew upwards, taller than any mortal man could hope to be, and yet taller still.

Dark hair spilled out in gold-bound tresses like a storm marching in from the sea, threatening high waves and lashing rain. Olive skin like a summer blessing gleamed softly in the sunlight, and the woman - goddess - wore that Cretan style that was still popular, especially among noble ladies all around the Aegean. That mode of dress meant Ganymede was staring straight at the luscious curve of heavy breasts, higher than they had any right to be for the size of them, and she might have made a noise of some sort. Any way she blushed, tearing her eyes away from dusky nipples practically begging to be touched or even kissed, and up into shining gray eyes soft like morning fog.

"M-my lady---!" 

That was a squeak. 

A straight up squeak and Ganymede swallowed a tiny curse as she tried to struggle to her feet and not feel disappointed. The Queen of the Gods was radiant, and had also certainly never been known to pay attention to women in escapades that really marked her for who and what she was. One of the Deathless Ones, and possessed of far more determination to do what she wanted than what was probably quite proper, even among the gods, and not quite fair to the mortal men she visited.

Hands, enormous compared to her and soft, caught Ganymede's own and she froze like a rabbit might have under the shadow of a descending bird of prey. She was put on her feet with no struggle, and then her face was caught and tipped up.

Zeus was frowning, and Ganymede, though she would not quail, certainly wished to do so. What had she even done, when she'd just been sitting here? 

No one had, as far as she knew, foolishly thought to call her more beautiful than any of the gods. So far, anyway. Some days it felt only like a matter of when, not if, it would happen. Zeus said nothing, however. Thumbs, so large compared to what Ganymede knew, and gentle enough their touch could barely be felt, stroked down her cheeks, then one pressed against her bottom lip.

She couldn't help herself, and drew her lip in to bury her teeth in it, and shivered to see those gray eyes darken. Ganymede still couldn't read the frown on a face that, though Zeus seemed about two decades older than her, was still divinely perfect and flawlessly soft.

"You," Zeus proclaimed, voice as quiet as a distant rumble of thunder, "are the most beautiful mortal I've ever seen."

Was that good or bad?

Ganymede found a tiny, wavering smile, and for once she didn't really mind hearing those words despite her concern.

"Thank you, my lady." Ganymede paused, knocked rather breathless as Zeus took one hand away from her cheek to touch the curls near her ear. The skin on the shell of her ear was tingling. "... Is there anything I can help you with?"

Zeus was, despite the feathery touch, not doing much of anything but staring. Her look had softened again, but the frown, a tiny notch between impressive brows, lingered.

"Olympos would be ill-served if I let beauty such as this pass into mortal twilight," Zeus said, and once more touched a barely-there finger to Ganymede's lips. "Ignoring that for the moment, however, you have somehow lit a fire, Princess Ganymede of Troy, and I am going to stamp it out."

Despite the fact that Zeus' sonorous voice was as mild as any divine voice could probably ever be, for a second Ganymede was cold to her core, heart skipping unevenly in her chest. Then her mind caught up, realizing where Zeus was looking, connecting it to the touches, and she flushed, hotter than the sun from inside out and melting the chill until it was less than a dream.

There was no chance to answer as Zeus was already leaning in, _down_. Ganymede might be dizzy for the height of her, but if so she was already thoughtlessly clinging to rounded shoulders to keep her upright. 

She needed the grip, anyway. 

Zeus kissed her with not so much as a shadow of the hesitation that had been graven on her face - was that what it'd been? - her lips soft but presence undeniable, and Ganymede could only cling to the goddess as her senses were overwhelmed. Zeus tugged her closer, engulfing her in her long arms and pressing her against the swell of her chest, and Ganymede might have begged for something if there wasn't a tongue in her mouth, turning her inside out.

The air was hot and charged, stinging prickles of static electricity pinching olive skin that would be darker had Ganymede spent more time outside than she ever did, as much as she delighted in horses and chariots. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe until her vision was wavering and her mouth tasted like something sweet and charged and Zeus was pulling back, towering over her.

Zeus, who looked consternated, past the spilling flow of her dark hair that framed her face and her cutting cheekbones.

"I suppose I should've expected that," Zeus muttered, lifting her gaze from Ganymede to stare into the horizon, and it was only then that Ganymede's galloping heartbeat evened out.

Ganymede slowly shook her head and could just about cry for the fact that this was probably the greatest kiss she'd ever get. More than that, it was probably the only one she might actually want, considering what lay in her future.

"Are you leaving, now, my lady?" she asked quietly, and somehow didn't jump when Zeus looked back at her and snorted, a startlingly inelegant sound from such a stunning goddess.

" _We_ are."

Something in that voice urged Ganymede to run. The rest of her nearly reverberated with both loss and relief, because no matter what, this was better, wasn't it? No matter what, she was leaving Troy, and if she was taken by Zeus to Olympos, then she wouldn't have to marry. Though what she was supposed to _do_ in the abode of the gods, Ganymede couldn't begin to imagine.

And so, just as the river surged up and Scamander took physical form, Zeus picked Ganymede up and leaped into the air, trailing a gold shimmer of misdirection and sweet nectar scent behind her.

Reflexively, Ganymede threw her arms around the goddess' slender neck, and somehow the wind whipping around them left her face free of both her own curls and the thick, wavy silk of Zeus' tresses. Any number of words came to mind and all of them stuck in her throat when those gray eyes flickered to her. What came out was something entirely different, and, perhaps, far more practical of a question to ask.

"What am I even going to do on Olympos, my lady?"

Zeus stared at her, then smiled faintly. Just a lopsided little quirk of her lips, and Ganymede's heart stuttered for it.

"I could put you in a garden among the other flowers and that would be enough service rendered to any of the gods, for such godlike perfection as you, Ganymede. But I think I desire a cupbearer of my own. My husband has our daughter to serve him, why should I not have one as well? My position is no less than his."

As she said that, however, Zeus was watching Ganymede's lips, and Ganymede blushed, clearing her throat. If that kiss, that look, meant more than just carrying cups...

"I believe I could handle that, my lady."

"Good." Zeus smiled, and it felt like a blessing. 

Hopefully one that was strong enough to guard her against the king's wrath, if he noticed his wife's once again straying attention. But maybe he would miss it, this once? Maybe the change from what was expected would save her. Maybe the fact that she couldn't impregnate the queen of the gods would, as well.

Not that she could remember anything having been done to Europa after he'd been removed to Crete, or even after he'd been handed the triplets Zeus had borne from the union. Io hadn't been as lucky, however. Nine months, the king had driven the prince-turned-bull all over the world in fury, all the worse when the young man had been King Hera's priest. Only the birth of the son, removing any immediate visual goad as proof of the successful mating between the son of the river Inachos and the queen of the gods, had stilled Hera's immediate ire.

Those two were two ends of how the scales could fall, and Ganymede, though distracted by the tapestry of land and then water rushing past below them, could only hope it would be the one and not the other. She might have clutched Zeus a little tighter than she meant to, with those thoughts occupying her mind, for she could feel the weight of Zeus' attention back on her before she looked up to meet those gray eyes.

"Peace, Ganymede." Zeus smiled again, and Ganymede, wishing for anything but having to think about the future fury of a husband repeatedly having been cheated on while he, himself, defied all usual behaviour, smiled and tipped her head.

"This is amazing," she whispered, looking down, then back up once more, meeting Zeus' gaze in time to see the slight widening of her bright eyes, then a smile sweeter than spring on that sharp-featured face.

The flush that followed disappeared like it'd never been when they touched down on the circular mosaic courtyard in front of the palace propylaia. The air buzzed in Ganymede's ears, and her skin felt tight, her vision graying slightly at the edges. There was a shadow among the other shadows cast by the gate, and not even Zeus turning around in a swirl of layered, gold-spangled skirts and cutting that sight off did anything to shield Ganymede from the growing weight of divine presence and displeasure.

"You've brought one of them _to Olympos_ , Zeus? How---"

The rich, rolling voice, like a deep-voiced bell, turned to nothing but static as Zeus laid a hand on top of Ganymede's head. She dug her fingers in to catch some curls and tug lightly, and that sent a tingling little chill through Ganymede's nerves. 

Or it might just be because her bones seemed to be vibrating.

She was going to die.

Fire followed, eating her up from the inside out, and for a couple thunderously aching heartbeats, Ganymede really rather believed she was indeed dying. Then the air cleared, her head and heartbeat did as well, and she could breathe again. Blinking into the honey-toned sunlight and aware how she had apparently slumped right into Zeus, because her face was buried against something terribly soft, Ganymede flushed. Her hearing snapped back in just as Zeus gently straightened her up and turned them both around.

"---aved us all, and I will do as I wish. I married you, what else do you want?" Zeus said sharply, though the edge wasn't obvious in her grip on Ganymede's shoulders, so very slender in the goddess’ long-fingered, large hands. "Besides, Princess Ganymede of Troy is no man, and by rights of her godlike beauty she belongs among us. As such, I've gifted her immortality and eternal youth."

Thrust forward, Ganymede was speared by an incandescent golden brown stare that would undoubtedly have killed her had she still been mortal. 

Ganymede blinked, staring up at King Hera, broad-shouldered and nearly soft-featured for a man, and appreciated that she was still breathing. She should be dead. She also wouldn't be dying any time soon, now. Ganymede wondered if Zeus would have waited until there was a larger audience if Hera's displeasure hadn't been about to kill her.

Those brown eyes, narrowed as they'd been, widened for a beat as Hera took Zeus' newest fascination in. By the look given her, if it was anyone else but Hera, King of the Gods, Ganymede would have feared she might find herself in his bed with no real way to say no, not here, not to _the king of the gods_. But Hera, after having been freed from his father's stomach with his five other siblings and after the Olympians' war against the Titans, had taken one wife and looked at no other woman. There was no reason to think she'd be an exception.

Even if she was some sort of exception to Zeus, who hadn't looked to a woman before her.

"... She won't shame us, certainly," Hera said tightly, then looked up at his wife, eyes narrow again. "And I suppose this is a shade better than the usual, but you have no shame."

Ganymede felt like her heart had just stopped. Apparently there would be no pretending all Zeus was doing was giving a place of honour to a former mortal who deserved it, regardless what the other gods might think. But if even the king thought she belonged, then Ganymede would hazard a guess that Zeus' desire really wasn't the only reason she was here, and wasn't the only thing that would earn her her place. It was, despite the humming fury of the god in front of her, still a relief.

"Educate me on the matter later," Zeus said, and Ganymede couldn't tell what the edge in her voice was. It carried whiffs of an argument that'd been old for ages, at the very least. "For now I intend to install my new cupbearer in her new home."

"Your---" Hera cut off. Looked down. Pressed his lips together and then snorted. "I suppose the queen should have one of her own, yes."

As the king of the gods turned and strode into the shadows of the propylaia Olympos might just as well have trembled under his feet, still though the ground was. Ganymede, while fearing it was too familiar, couldn't stop herself from slumping back against Zeus. Long fingers came to her chin and tipped her head back, and Ganymede smiled a little as she met Zeus' gaze.

"You did very well, sweet Ganymede. I think that deserves a reward."

The smile on Zeus' face had Ganymede blushing again, but she raised a hand and shyly curved it around Zeus' wrist, and the pleased darkening of those gray eyes were as much a reward as whatever might come later surely would be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus will take what she wants, regardless of expectations and unwritten rules. Why shouldn't she when her brother can, and Ganymede is oh so willing?

Closing the door behind her and staring down at her new cupbearer, Zeus looked Ganymede over with all of her attention, a little angry still at how close things had been. It seemed she had managed to make Ganymede immortal before Hera had done any actual damage, however. Her little princess was fine, practically glowing with health in fact, and the angled, shy little look past lashes so thick there was barely even the faintest hint of green to be seen was quickly eroding Zeus' focus on anything that wasn't those plush lips and the charming thrust of Ganymede's nose.

"My lady," Ganymede said, the tip of her tongue coming out to wet her lips, and Zeus remembered how she'd responded to the kiss in the meadow. And how Ganymede had stared at her, both in the meadow and on the walk to Zeus’ rooms. Whatever else Ganymede thought of the proceedings, she clearly wasn't unhappy with _who_ had taken her. Or what she was interested in. "I don't want to make trouble, and you did give me rooms to use."

Ganymede stared up at Zeus, wide-eyed and a little pale for having spoken up, but she _had_ spoken up... And maybe Zeus was a little annoyed at the needless concern, but that wide, green gaze set in a face far more godlike than even some deities could present soothed that annoyance. And besides, she'd liked flying. Zeus had not expected that at all, and she wanted to find out what else Ganymede might like, what she _was like_ , beyond that nearly disturbingly alluring face of hers. 

But not now. No, now Zeus intended to explore if Ganymede was as pretty as she looked all over, and not just on what she could currently see.

"These rooms are mine," Zeus said with a wave of her hand, stalking over to crowd Ganymede back against the bed, "and I sleep with my husband in our shared bridal chamber, not in here. This place, and anything in it, is mine."

The last was said with deliberately pointed weight as Zeus reached out and tipped Ganymede's face up, and she blushed, pretty and dark, and smiled. Gave her a pink-faced glance Zeus was pretty sure Ganymede had not a clue what it said, but for Zeus it sparked something ravenous. Hers, yes, and this Hera wouldn't touch.

She loved her husband, of course. 

Otherwise she wouldn't have married him at all, but Zeus also had not married her brother only because she loved him. She'd married him because no matter how they all had looked to her during the war, recognizing her strength and power, she would not have been able, been allowed, to keep it after, and if she couldn't rule in her own name, she would do the very next best thing, and make sure her impact was felt. Besides, Hera hadn't done nearly enough to make sure there were deities enough of their line to take positions within the sphere, and for whatever reason, the children they’d made between them were relatively few.

So Zeus had taken matters in her own hands, and damn what her husband thought of it, for even if he agreed in theory, he did not agree with Zeus' chosen method.

Well, that was not her problem. 

It wasn't as if she hadn't most enthusiastically attempted it with her husband, and that was how they'd found out Hera did not quite have the same drive Zeus had. That had been terribly strange, but Zeus hadn't been about to push too far, _or_ , give up either on Hera himself or her place next to him, for such a matter. And admittedly, even if every single one of the sons and daughters she'd gotten with other deities had come from Hera instead of those others, that wouldn't have stopped her from going elsewhere. Not even if Hera _had_ shared her sex drive.

Because, frankly, if she wished it, why should she be stopped from doing as she wanted? Poseidon - and any of her sons - went where they wished, married or not, so Zeus didn't see why she couldn't have what she wanted as well. And what she wanted was Hera as her husband, the _only_ one, and herself on the throne beside him _as well as_ any other temporary lover that might strike her fancy.

Including this one currently right here in front of her, even though Zeus had never thought she'd look at a woman again after Demeter. 

But how could she not, with this girl? If there was any woman she'd look to like she had Demeter, special as she'd been and evidenced clearly by Persephone's very existence, it would be a mortal as godlike as this. And no matter how long Ganymede might keep her attention, she would not have her lost to the short twilight of a mortal life, so taking her to Olympos had been the obvious choice. Even Hera hadn't been able to deny Ganymede deserved what Zeus had given her, which meant she was all the more right to have done it.

"Anything?"

Zeus blinked, shaken out of her thoughts and for a moment stunned both word- and breathless for the sweetly coy question, so earnest the deliberate tease still seemed as innocent as the wide-eyed, stunned look Ganymede had given her when she'd transformed back from eagle shape. And when she'd stared at her breasts. 

Smirking a little at the memory, Zeus knew where to start, now. She'd felt more than one glance on the way to her rooms.

" _Anything_ , Ganymede, and I do with them as I wish," Zeus murmured against sweet, plush lips, and felt them tremble a little against her as they shared breath. "But I take care of them as well, as you'll see. But I believe I promised you a reward. You may touch them, if you wish."

There was no need to specify. As soon as she'd said _reward_ , Zeus caught Ganymede's gaze flicking down, though she couldn't see anything much at this angle. Still, Zeus also wanted her own reward, since she'd have to wait a little longer to get this unbelievably human girl naked. Zeus pulled Ganymede in for another kiss, hauling her up to press them together. She enjoyed the feeling of Ganymede shifting a foot around to search for support where she now dangled and finding none, even with Zeus leaned down, and then clutching to her as if her life depended on it.

Well, in some ways it certainly did, but not in such a small matter as this.

Slowly, Zeus pulled away, the last kiss worked into Ganymede's skin right over the thundering pulse in her throat, and the moan was fine enough Zeus was hard pressed to put her down instead of tossing her straight onto the bed.

A wide-eyed look was thrown up at her, but Ganymede needed no further prompting, no matter how shyly hesitant she was to put her hands on the goddess' body. 

The bare brush of fingers against the skin of Zeus' breasts was a reward in itself honestly, as soft as they were. Zeus had no idea how such a girl should have been born no more than mortal human - she should have been a nymph, at the very least. But then, perhaps it was just proof of how strong her own blood was, in addition to both Xanthos and Simoeis giving up daughters or granddaughters for marrying into the royal line of Dardanos and Troy since it had been founded, and that brought a smugly pleased feeling. 

One which shattered into a startled catch of her breath when Ganymede got her attention again. There was a thumb rubbing her stiffening nipple, daring as she hadn’t expected Ganymede to be.

Zeus looked down, and only the stunned, intent look on her little princess' face, as well as the thread of warm sensation, kept her from taking the matter back into her own hands. It did give her one thing, though; the certainty that she wanted to see what Ganymede might be like when she was more relaxed. As proper as this reverence was, the shy hesitation that came with it was surely hampering darling Ganymede far too much.

And then Ganymede leaned in, moist, curious lips on the nipple she hadn't thumbed, and the press of her tongue, near shockingly hot in comparison, was enough of a surprise Zeus gasped. It also broke her patience.

" _My_ turn now," she proclaimed, and had Ganymede stripped of the outer layers of her skirts before she hit the bed, the rest following quickly. Zeus own clothes were discarded with an impatient flick of power, earning her a pleasingly stunned look. There was only so much patience one could have for obeying quaint laws of physical reality, and Zeus liked the sense of control she gained by flouting them so.

The only thing either of them now wore were necklaces and bracelets, the straps and pins and bands in their respective hair, but the jewellery wasn't in the way. And anyway, a girl like Ganymede _ought_ to be decorated.

Ganymede was sleek and slender, with hidden muscle felt under Zeus' large, long-fingered and slender hands that revealed she swam, and had been indulged in riding horses and driving chariots. Her breasts were surprisingly large - her build suggesting something far more girlish - but not ridiculously so, and certainly not anywhere near to match with Zeus. But Zeus liked the way they fit in her hands as she took command of Ganymede's body, her mouth, and bent her towards pleasure. There was something in the way Ganymede melted into her touch, bent to it as if almost anticipating where Zeus already willed to touch and opened up to it, which sparked interest she rarely got to indulge in. There was time to explore that later. There were so very many things Zeus found herself desiring to do, for the shift of muscle under soft skin, the twist of long, restless limbs as Ganymede arched up against her invited only more touch, eyes to linger more than could be done merely once or twice.

Zeus kissed down from that small, mobile mouth, so generous as it was, over a sweetly rounded chin and down the faint cut of jaw, and locked onto the sleek expanse of throat. There was nothing here to distract from its smooth, perfect arch. It left Zeus free to suck up the breathless little gasps and trembling moans through soft skin stretched vulnerably taut under her mouth and teeth as she squeezed her handfuls of flesh.

Skating bare brushes of touch over the swelling undersides of Ganymede’s breasts, so starved of touch, got her Ganymede quivering and her lashes fluttering. 

Pinching those cute, rosebud nipples and pulling, carefully at first but a little firmer when the breath catching in that sweet throat only warmed with some sort of stunned disbelief for the sensation instead of protesting pain, had Ganymede moaning, then begging.

And not begging her to stop, or to speed up, or more, merely for what she already had. It brought thoughts of rewarding it might be to see how far she would have to push Ganymede until she did end up begging, for more or to stop, from pure overwhelming sensation. There was, however, something soothingly, gratifyingly pleasing and indulgent in simply being begged for whatever she might wish to bestow.

Men, in some unfortunate ways, were always men, and while mortal such were of course reverent, there were only a rare few she'd found to bend to her completely so far, all the more rewarding for that. Fighting dear Hera for what she wanted could be terribly fun, but they were both demanding and dominant - sometimes it made it hard to please them both. Still, that wasn’t the reason Zeus went elsewhere, for Hera was clever and skilled at what she did. 

She hadn't thought to look elsewhere past where she already found herself, and here this girl was writhing for her in blessed, undemanding need.

"M-my lady," Ganymede breathed, stumbling over her syllables as much as the glancing peeks past the arm tossed over her pretty face. That couldn't remain there, for Zeus wanted no obstruction to watching sensation and expression transform it, but for now she said nothing. She was pleased to not have to tell Ganymede to keep her hands off her - she didn't want to discourage Ganymede, and such an order might be taken far too wrongly at the moment.

Squeezing her double handfuls in response, Zeus smiled sharply when Ganymede choked on her voice and tremblingly arched into the touch. She was pushing into it as much as there was a trembling need to shy away from the thumbs relentlessly playing with nipples that were achingly hard beneath divinely soft fingertips. Zeus knew she could have Ganymede coming from playing with her breasts alone, and she looked forward to showing her, but there was a throbbing need far more insistent, and Zeus wasn't done exploring. 

As god-like as the girl was, did it truly apply to _all_ of her?

Zeus gave a couple last, yanking little tugs to both nipples, self-indulgent as it was. Ganymede writhed from it, for her, hitching her hips up as her toes curled, and it made Zeus want to force her flat down onto the bed and _consume_ her.

Well.

Soon enough.

"The whole world might have come to blows over you eventually for your godlike beauty, Ganymede, but I will be the only one to touch you this way, and that is only fitting, isn't it?" As soon as she said it, the words ringing with conviction far deeper than Zeus had intended, she realized they were probably true enough. What right had anyone else to touch a girl, no matter how human she was born, more than the queen of the gods, who had helped free all of them and set up the current order, even if she could not stand alone at the head of it?

And Ganymede, this darling, precious girl, looked up at her with wide eyes sparkling like stars and flushed so very prettily all the way down to her stiff nipples. Zeus' insides seized with lust as well as possessive tenderness. No, no one else but her, for this was what she was due.

"Yes, my lady." Ganymede agreeing with her was near as much as pleasant a touch as that distracting mouth on her nipple had been.

The girl would end up knowing how to please her with it soon enough. 

Zeus ran her hands down Ganymede's slim body, squeezing the gently shy swell of hips and stroking down towards the inside of those long, strongly rounded thighs. Chased the tremble there until Ganymede's legs fell open, and aside from having Ganymede use her mouth like such a mouth was surely intended to be, Zeus decided she might be interested in exploring the exposed sex in front of her with her mouth, sometime. 

Oral sex was something she only rarely bestowed on lovers - her husband most often, but even that was rare indeed. There was of course a sense of power and control in reducing her lover to quivering release from it, but it always felt far too demanding. It had been fun with Demeter, however, and as Zeus stroked a thumb along delicately pink and perfectly symmetrical folds and watched Ganymede tried to stay still while she so very clearly wanted to arch up into the touch, the desire to consume her resurfaced.

Yes, this one, she would.

But not now.

"You won't displease me by moving, Ganymede," Zeus said with a laugh, the sound of it rolling out around them, full and resonant like distant thunder. "In fact, I should be quite offended if I couldn't overcome your control."

Sternly said, yes, but while Ganymede paled a little at first, she flushed again, like a newly blooming rosebud opening for the summer dawnlight, as Zeus slowly worked her thumb around the stiffening poke of her clit, so perfectly framed by the hood half shielding it and practically inviting touch. Ganymede's gasped acquiescing sound choked into a trembling moan as Zeus increased the pressure, and the tremble turned into tiny, twitching hitches of Ganymede's hips, her body seeking more where Ganymede might otherwise try to restrain herself. 

Zeus watched Ganymede bite her lower lip, swelling under the pressure like a ripe grape threatening to burst, and she’d had enough of ignoring the growing throb of her own pussy.

"Come here, then."

She pulled Ganymede towards herself as much as she shifted forward, one long, graceful leg lifted up to lay full against Zeus' torso. With a smirk, Zeus cradled Ganymede's cute little foot between her breasts, laughing at the pink-faced incredulity that painted on Ganymede’s face. It was an expression that froze into breathless understanding when Zeus tossed one leg over Ganymede's other one, fitting them together easily thanks to how small the human girl was next to her. Smaller still even when one set aside how humans were short compared to the gods, for Zeus was among the tallest of _all_ the Deathless Ones of her generation. Only Hades was taller, and Zeus was always smugly pleased her greater height aggravated Poseidon so.

"Oh---" A cracked little squeak before Ganymede bit her knuckle, soft, blushing-red lips fitting around it like a promise for what else that mouth might fit around later. Zeus shuddered as much for the view as for how there was now heat against her, the way she could practically engulf Ganymede with herself.

Shifting her hips in a rubbing roll sparked slow threads of sensation, but it wasn't quite right. 

Bending forward, Zeus forced Ganymede to follow, and snagging a pillow to push her lower half up and off the bed a little got Ganymede presented at the perfect angle. Every stroke now, slow and full to start with, let Zeus plow her clit between the cradling folds of Ganymede's pussy and then rub their clits together, and that was more perfect than she could have even dreamed of. What fantastic use of the sharp difference in size and height between them, an extra little perk past the pure satisfaction of holding one of those much smaller hands in her own, the slender body small against her not just for Ganymede's build alone, but because she simply was so much smaller compared to Zeus.

Perfect.

Slow, exploring strokes soon turned into shoving thrusts, pausing only for Zeus to roll her hips and grind their clits together. It pressed Ganymede into the bed, but with Ganymede arching up against her, answering by trying to tense against every such pinning roll so she might be as firm against it as possible and get _more_ out of it, Zeus was hardly afraid that it was too much. 

Ganymede was opening up beneath her, against her, and pleasure made her soft limbed and her muscles stiff, as artful as any devotional piece of art dedicated to Aphrodite. Ganymede was begging even more, even if she surely didn’t intent so, with how her head tossed back and hands tugged on the sheets and blankets under them.

Her little princess was a vision, flushed and wanton in her unselfconscious abandon, mouth open and breasts bouncing with every one of Zeus’ grinding thrusts. 

She was trembling, but Zeus could feel an answering one in her thighs as sensation slowly built. If Zeus hadn't already decided she could not, would not, have this only once, with Ganymede under her like this, the view of the girl’s stomach trembling and flexing, the arch of her throat and the flush on her skin would have decided it for her.

Light caught like glittering stars in the sweat gathering at the hollow of Ganymede's throat, in her jewellery and gems. Sex draped itself around Ganymede and lent her a rosy glow, even human as she was. 

If Ganymede had words to beg for orgasm, all she did was to arch up and ask Zeus not for that, but simply for more with every wordless moan that spilled from her.

Zeus even paused, twice, feeling the tightening heat of her little princess, the growing quiver of an oncoming orgasm, and Ganymede sobbed in frustration, but the dark-eyed, glazed look she threw her goddess asked for nothing but more, despite how that tightening curl of orgasm then denied must frustrate her. Fortunately, more was what Zeus was minded to give her, even when she was dragging it out as she was. It would only make the end all the more rewarding. 

The bed shuddered under Zeus’ quickening movements until she was chasing a heated, golden tingle suffusing her from her insides out, until she couldn't have stopped even if she wanted to. Finally, Zeus shoved near her full weight, blooming out about her, against Ganymede, the bed protesting but her little princess flushing and gasping as if she'd been given a gift. When she came - when they both came - it pulled from one into two and then three with bare, relentless shifts of Zeus' hips, with just the slightest change in pressure and fit of their clits together.

She wasn’t satisfied and was intent on going once more very soon, but for now Zeus was minded to let the glow of orgasm fade before she showed Ganymede the perks of both immortality and a divine lover.

Slumping over Ganymede, Zeus pulled her close against her, as close as she could come which yet didn’t feel close enough. The trembling, shy hands that came up around to clutch Zeus’ shoulders were as much yet another pleasure as was Ganymede's face in the hollow of her throat whispering breathless thank yous.

Zeus did not need to ask to know they were as much for her orgasm-quivering exhaustion as it was for taking Ganymede from that meadow, though she would undoubtedly be sad over being separated from her family when she had a moment to think about it. On the other hand, that was the fate of nearly all girls. Was there much difference in this, aside from Zeus giving Ganymede respite from something she hadn't wanted while taking something for herself - and the rest of the Deathless Ones - that _she_ had wanted?

Ganymede would have been leaving home before the summer was out either way.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my Femslash February contribution!
> 
> This also isn't the fun, porny version of this mirror-verse (that would be having Zeus at the head of the pantheon still, doing whatever she wants with the usual lack of repercussions). This is the semi-serious version that obliquely takes into account the sexual politics and societal attitudes that colour Hera and Zeus' relationship, with each other and vis-a-vis Zeus' behaviour. They keep their canon personalities and behaviours (despite that some of both of those _are_ definitely coloured by said sexual politics and societal attitudes), because that's more interesting than making Hera a typical Ancient Greek man.
> 
> There might be a smutty second chapter, we'll see.


End file.
